I'm a hypocrite

Every time I start writing again (which seems to happen with embarrassing frequency for me) I feel this strange compulsion to write first about writing itself, something I both enjoy and philosophically oppose. Writing written about writing, always seems to present the danger of becoming just naval gazing form of expression possible. Writing, I believe, ought to be a way of getting out of yourself and connecting with others

And yet here I am.

Part of it is an act of justification. I feel I must justify that writing a post is more than just satisfying a strange kind of vanity. Ultimately wanting to speak has to be matched with people receptive to being spoken to. Like the poet Billy Collins, I don't believe in writing "just for yourself" being sufficiently worthwhile, though it can be therapeutic. Like doing a radio show, if there's no listeners, there's no point. The problem is that, as with radio, you don't always know who your listeners are and you just have to hope that the stuff you dig might matter to other people too.

Presumably it's the possibility for connection that propels writing in the first place and helps take it from being self-indulgent to being useful in some way. Just as no one starts a band in their basement expecting it will stay there I don't go to the radio station each week with the expectation that I'm the only one listening. If I'm gonna bother writing something I want real people to read it, not just imaginary future publishers.

That's why blogs are great. You can do it without the pretension that can come with harboring dreams of literary fame that I might have had taking creative writing classes in school.

Several months ago, a friend wrote me about how she had been touched by something I had written about my late dad. I sometimes question the merit of writing about deeply personal subjects, this blog having started as a travel journal, it wasn't something I was prepared for. When I started writing about it, I wasn't sure if anyone would care. But the way I figure it, if even one person is touched by something I write, then that is sufficient justification to sit down every week to do something I love.

The radio show that shares this blogs' name Late Night Hobo Blues (which doesn't really make sense for either one at this point...) started as a jazz and blues show and ended up somewhere very different. I've finally abandoned sticking to a theme or direction to dictate its content. And that's what I plan to do here as well.

Normally that sort of lack of direction bothers me, but I think for now it's good. I'll just keep looking around and seeing what I can find and then on Wednesdays I'll show you what I've found.